It was not without some sense of relief, therefore, that he saw Pascal start as he entered the room, and heard him exclaim in a tone of dismay—
“The sly devil has wriggled out, Gerard. By my shroud, I had not deemed it possible. I put him in there and shot the bolt upon him”; and he pointed to an empty closet.
“Never mind. Perhaps it is best so,” answered Gerard with a smile. “An honest man can’t always beat a rogue at his own trade, it seems.”
“Aye, laugh away; but he’ll not laugh if ever I set eyes on him again, the sneaking mongrel.”
“For not waiting for your return, you mean? He knows his business, at any rate.”
“Aye, that’s certain; but the point is how much he knows of yours?” retorted Pascal. “I’ll forgive him for knowing his own, but he shall pay the price for meddling in mine. Were I not a fool I had mounted guard over him and waited for you to come here.”
“Are you sure he was spying upon us?”
“Am I sure that we are on a queer quest here? Who can have turned him on to such a scent?”
“I should suspect de Proballe, were it not that he knows all my supposed unsavoury history as the real de Cobalt.”
“He has no suspicion that you are not?”